Finish for always about Dougal and me and all those times

I am a bit bewildered at the moment. Dougal, my friend and big brother has gone. He was breathing badly in the night and I called out to the humans to come. They did, and tried to help him, but he was panting and panting and the Food Lady put him in her bedroom. I got on the bed and then Dougal tried to get up too and the Food Lady lifted him and we all tried to comfort him but he breathed and coughed worse and worse and then he lay still and there was lots of crying. He lay and lay and didn't get up, and then the Alph covered him and wrapped him in soft blankets and they carried them to the kennel when it got light, but there was no Dougal there anymore, just a cold body. They dug a big hole near the shed where Dougal and I go hunting for lizards, and put the empty body inside and covered it up. I don't understand. I tried to call to him to run to the garbage truck coming up the road, or to chase the pesky Jack Russell from down the road away, or to shout rude words at the postman's motorbike, but no Dougal came and I don't know where he has gone.

Dougal walking with the Alph on Table Mountain.

I am like Boots, the Scotty in my best book Thy Servant a Dog when his hound friend, Ravager, goes to sleep and doesn't wake up and Harry with Spade "digged and put under like bone." Boots says "Please, this is finish for always about Ravager and me all all those times. Please, I am very small mis'able dog ! ... I do not understand ! ... I do not understand. !"

The Food Lady suggests you read this poem on the blog, but I don't understand it becuase she and the Alph and our two human brothers gave us their hearts and we don't want to tear them, its just that we don't live as long as them. I just do not understand ...

Farewell to Fat Dog

We are very sorry to hear that Minnie, the Fat Dog in Walks with a Fat Dog has died. Her book is one of our best and really got me started on this blog! To read more about Minnie Slingsby, click here.

The power of the dog

A poem by Rudyard Kipling

THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way

From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permit
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find - it's your own affair, -
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!),
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone - wherever it goes - for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear!

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent,
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve;
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long -
So why in - Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

In memory of all my friends that have passed on.

Amber

We heard some very sad news today. Amber, a beautiful long-legged ridgeback, died the other day of cancer. I actually never met her, but she came to one or two Boxing Day bashes here and the legend lives on. Sam, the Labrador who preceded me, had an almighty crush on her!
Photos: Top: Amber when she was young and bouncy on the mountains above Kalk Bay. Above: Amber feeding her puppies - she was a devoted mother and raised 16 healthy pups!

In the words of her owners, Graham and Daleen:
"While we are very tearful now, we also have to be thankful for the time we had together. When she was an only dog, we went to restaurants together. We went on holiday to Beaverlac, where an admiring Boerbul slept outside our cottage and taught her to chase baboons. We went to Mountain Mist, where she terrorised the resident dassies. We went to Velddrift, where she canoed on the river with us. She chased Himalayan Thars on Table Mountain, Fallow Deer at Rhodes Memorial and seagulls at Blouberg Beach. She hunted molerats and field mice on Rondebosch Common. She raised 16 beautiful puppies and enjoyed the 700 hectares of mountain farm with 2 of them for the past 3 years. She had a wonderful hunting dog life - we just wish it had been much longer.
"We have comforting news that her grand-daughter in the Czech Republic, who carries Amber's name Anbar Shumba (= Amber Lion) has Amber's wonderful nature and delivered 10 beautiful puppies on the day Amber died. We hope that many other people will be able to experience Amber in some way through her progeny."

Dougal, the Alpha Male, the Food Lady and I send our condolences to Graham, Daleen and her two sons, Red and Copper.

Amber cooling off in her favourite pan on top of Bergvliet Farm in Gansbaai, after a 5 km hike in summer.